Shadows of Night
by focsfyr
Summary: Dream and reality become intertwined, and Duo is left to figure out why.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Shadows of Night  
Part: 1/?  
Author: focsfyr  
Pairing: 2x5  
Warnings: yaoi, blood, strangeness, bit of swearing. If you don't like it, don't read it.  
Disclaimer: I don't own them and have no money. No copyright infringements are intended.  
Archive: my site others please ask  
C&C: would be very much appreciated. And yes, that means criticism as well as comments.

Thanks to missa, Amida, Scheherazade, Mevima and Switch for beta-ing.

* * *

::thoughts::

**SHADOWS OF NIGHT**

A weary body tensed as the crash of the closing door shattered the night. Wufei held his breath in anticipation of the other pilots' arrival -- and sighed in relief at the silence that followed.

It seemed he was alone in the safe house tonight, for that he was grateful. No matter how well meaning, he didn't feel up to dealing with Quatre's concerned questions, worried eyes and sympathetic words. The blond fussed over everyone under the best of circumstances, his empathy urging him to try to protect and shelter, even those who had no need of his protection. And while his concern for their well being was touching in a time when caring was rarely admitted and comfort seldom given, it often drove Wufei frantic with the need to get away from the attention.

The same went for Trowa's silence, Heero's criticism and Duo's tireless energy.

Of all the pilots, Wufei felt the closest to Trowa. Trowa respected his privacy in a way that none of the others would, acknowledging his need for silence but lending the comfort of his presence and an unspoken invitation to speak his thoughts, promising without words that yes, he would listen and would not judge.

Trowa was the closest thing to a friend that Wufei had, and it was a friendship that he treasured.

Had anyone bothered to ask which of the pilots beside Trowa he felt most comfortable with, they would have died of shock to hear him speak the name "Duo," but in all honesty, it was true. Caring as Quatre was, Wufei could only take so much sweetness and concern before he found himself itching to chase the blond out of the room and finally have some peace.

And Heero...he didn't even want to _think_ about Heero. The pilot of Wing Zero had absolutely _no_ concept of privacy, having decided early on that it was something that could be sacrificed for the 'good of the mission.' He had a habit of entering without knocking that, while small -- even trivial -- drove Wufei up the wall. And where Trowa's silence was comforting and comfortable, Heero's was anything but. He could almost feel those ice-cold eyes boring holes in the back of his head now!

And his attitude!

Though he hated doing so, Wufei knew his own faults and freely admitted to being a total perfectionist and occasionally, an utter snob. But he didn't _radiate_ criticism with every breath he took...at least, he _hoped_ he didn't.

Besides his patented Death Glare ≥, the Japanese boy had an incredible talent for making anyone and everyone feel like a bug beneath a microscope whenever he questioned them. And he _did_ question them...about _every_ mission that didn't go perfectly according to plan...about _each_ little fuck-up and unfavorable incident. He criticized every move they made, even those that ended up all right in the end, and in general made every one of them acutely aware of their faults and worthlessness.

The Chinese pilot may not like Duo's constant chatter and habit of hiding behind laughter and fake smiles, but at least Duo knew when enough was enough. He knew when to stop poking and prodding at sensitive issues and when a little more pushing was just what was needed.

Heero knew too.

There were certain things one just _did not_ talk about with each of them, but either Heero's people skills were so underdeveloped that he couldn't read the warning signs, or he just didn't care.

Personally, Wufei was betting on the second.

But he wasn't going to have to deal with any of that tonight because the other pilots were apparently out on missions of their own, leaving Wufei to himself.

Instead of having to explain himself, he was free to do as he wished and wash up, go upstairs and fall into bed. He could hardly hear a thing over the ringing in his ears and he felt -- and probably looked -- like he had been dragged face down through hell.

He had every right to after the mess he'd just weaseled his way out of.

It had started out as a simple mission: get inside the base, find a hiding spot, dig in, hack a few programs, plant a few bombs, set the timers, and run.

An easy plan.

A simple plan.

A plan that had been shot to hell only three days later when some idiot guard decided his hiding spot looked like a great place to hole up and get high. Wufei, reflexes dulled by lack of sleep, still managed to kill the intoxicated man before he could draw his gun -- but not before he could press the button that sounded the alarm.

Once the alarms had gone off, soldiers had come boiling out of doors like wasps from a disturbed nest, each one buzzing angrily and with a taste for blood. The death of a gundam pilot was worth a significant raise, the capture -- a promotion and choice of station. And that wasn't even mentioning the pure hero-worship and admiration.

It had taken him the better part of two hours to maneuver his way from the depths of the flood-lit base without being caught, and even longer to work his way past perimeter guards whose fingers just itching for a target to shoot at.

Several of them hadn't even waited for a target. The knowledge that there was an intruder on base, probably one of the notorious gundam pilots, had the soldiers shooting at shadows. A fact that had him balanced on the edge of a knife blade, knowing that if he got hit by a random shot or was seen, he would have no hope of escaping with his life.

That no one had accidentally shot him was amazing. That he had escaped with nothing worse than an injured leg was nothing less than a miracle. He was just lucky that the fall in OZ's mobile suit repair hanger hadn't broken it. He'd thought he was dead for sure when the bullet frayed cables that held the catwalk gave way beneath his weight and he plummeted twenty feet to the floor below.

The cloth of his pants clung to his calf as he limped his way to the bathroom, each step accompanied by a sickening, sticky 'squish.'

His right boot was full, nearly to the ankle with blood. It had that horribly uncomfortable feeling you get when you step in a rain puddle and can feel the water sloshing between your toes. But instead of slowly drying as each step squeezed more liquid out of his shoe, he could feel the level slowly rising, fed by the slight trickle of blood still flowing down his leg.

At least he hadn't worn his usual outfit. Blood was hell to get out of white.

Instead, he had dug through Duo's laundry and snitched a pair of his pants so he'd able to hide in the shadows more easily.

He would have to thank Duo. Stealing his pants may well have saved his worthless life.

Fighting off the wave of dizzying vertigo that momentarily stole away his vision, Wufei stumbled into the bathroom. He leaned against the tiled wall and gingerly sat on the edge of the bathtub/shower before drawing a small knife and cutting away the cloth of his pants leg to bare the wound on his calf. The gash was deeper than he had initially thought, the pain dulled to a fuzzy ache as his body's natural painkillers kicked in. Beneath the crimson smeared across his calf, the skin was slowly darkening to an ugly mottle of blue, red and purple.

Tentative fingers probed at the injury, searching for any possible fractures that he had missed. Finding none, he wet a cloth beneath the faucet.

His wince as the warm water came into contact with his lacerated flesh tugged painfully at his split lip and brought to his attention all the _other_ injuries, more minor than the one staining the water red.

The shoulders that were knotted from tension, the throat that was sore from breathing dry, dusty air. The bruised ribs, aching head, the dozens of scrapes stinging his skin...

He felt like hell.

A quick glance in the mirror proved that he looked it too. The shallow scrape on his cheek was raw and red, making it look like someone had attacked him with sandpaper. It would continue to have that raw look for days until it really scabbed over...then it would just look painful.

Removing his shirt reminded his shoulders about how much strain they had been under in the last few hours and they screamed in protest at being forced to move. The lack of concealing cloth revealed dark bruising where a falling crate had connected with his ribs and several smaller cuts and bruises scattered across his skin. Including an arc of small bruises on his shoulder that made it look as if someone had tried to hook their fingers into the hollow of his collarbone and yanked.

Days spent concealed without the luxury of bathing water had left him feeling filthy, the buildup of grime highly offending his fastidious nature. He could feel his skin crawl at the blood, sweat and dirt that had accumulated, and he didn't even want to _think_ about his greasy hair. It felt like it was going to start growing something nasty at any moment. And the dark smudges beneath his eyes caused by several sleepless nights certainly didn't do anything to improve the overall effect.

All that piled on top of someone that wasn't particularly attractive in the first place...his reflection wrinkled its nose in disgust before looking away and turning on the shower.

::Well, I'm not going to worry about that now.:: It was too late and he was tired. Maybe tomorrow, once he was clean, rested and medicated he would worry about it, but not now. Right now he didn't have energy to waste on caring. There wasn't really anything he could do for the aches and pains, but the gritty feel of someone that hasn't bathed in days could be easily remedied.

Too dizzy from blood loss to wait for the water to reach a tolerable temperature, he stood and stepped into the chill spray, watching in dazed fascination as the water once again ran red.

* * *

The slamming of the door woke Duo from a light slumber more suitable for someone camped out on the front lines than someone dozing comfortably in a supposedly secure house.

Acting on instinct, he remained perfectly still, listening intently as whoever had entered the safe house paused, then slowly made their way down the hall. Slipping from the sheets without even making the springs creak, Duo picked up his gun and made his way downstairs, mapping the intruders progress by the sound of his (her?) soft, limping footsteps.

A familiar scent tickled at his nose as he reached the bottom of the steps. Blood. He could taste it on the air along with something else...herbs? No, something sweeter. Peaches -- like the shampoo sitting in the shower, waiting for a certain onyx-eyed boy to return...

Duo snorted softly in disgust for not thinking of that possibility before. But wasn't it too early for Wufei's mission to be over? He wasn't due back for...in the bathroom, the shower turned on full blast...blood, early return -- shit!

Lowering his gun, Duo rushed to the bathroom. He cursed softly as he bashed his shin against the edge of the doorframe in his haste. Then his jaw dropped as he was treated to the rare sight of one very modest gundam pilot stripped to the waist and sopping wet, loose hair falling into his downcast eyes and wet pants clinging to every inch of his gorgeous rear and strong, limber legs. And he hid all that behind such loose clothing...how dare he?

But despite the overwhelming urge to linger in the doorway and indulge in some strategic Wufei watching, the lack of response and the bruises scattered across the smaller boy's body sent a shiver of fear through him. It wasn't like the Chinese pilot to let anything slip by his attention. He was supposed to be the observant one. For Duo's presence to go unnoticed, even if he had been using his natural stealth -- which he hadn't -- was _not_ normal.

Each successive step brought him closer to the oblivious boy, his worry growing as Wufei continued to ignore him.

He laid one hand upon Wufei's shoulder. "Wufei? Are you okay?"

The dark haired boy leaped away from Duo's touch, his startled yelp turning into one of fear as his feet slid upon the water slick floor. Duo caught him inches from his head meeting with the wall and wrapped him protectively in his arms.

After a moment of panic Wufei regained his balance, heart pounding in response to the near disaster. Duo did not release him, even when he felt Wufei tense in discomfort. His skin was much too cold. Duo held him close, pressing the shorter boy close to his body. ::It's just until he warms up.:: he thought to himself, conveniently ignoring the warmth of the other boys blush against his shoulder. ::Nothing more.::

"Umm...Duo?"

"It's nothing personal Wu. It's just that you're hurt and you're _way_ too cold. If you don't warm up soon you'll get hypothermic and go into shock, and the best way to prevent that is to share body heat." It all sounded so reasonable when he said it out loud.

Too bad he didn't believe a word of it. But it was enough for Wufei and at the moment, _that_ was what counted.

Duo shivered slightly as the heat leeched out of his body and cold water slowly dampened his pajama pants where his thighs were pressed to the other boy's. And Wufei was still shivering.

He pulled away abruptly, stripped off Wufei's pants -- storing the fact that they were _his_ away for future note -- and sat the blushing boy down on the edge of the bathtub. Duo sank to his knees on the wet floor and rested his hands on Wufei's knee.

The Chinese boy froze. "Duo, what are you doing?" he demanded, eyes more startled than outraged.

"Your pants are soaked. Standing around in wet clothes isn't gonna do anything to help you warm up." ::Besides, I may never have the chance to see you sans pants ever again.::

Wufei's breath caught as thief's hands slowly slid down the his calf, deliberately caressing every inch of firmly muscled flesh as they drifted down to tug at the knots in his boot lace and slide it off his foot.

Holding Wufei's gaze captive with his own, Duo moved his hands to the other leg and repeated the process, taking note of cheeks flushed with desire and the rapid breaths, of the tongue slipping out to wet sensuous lips.

The sight was too tempting. Duo surged upward, devouring those full lips with his own, claiming every corner of his mouth with his tongue as his hands did the same with his body...

* * *

"Duo?"

The braided boy jerked away as if burned when he became aware of the wide brown eyes staring inches from his own.

"What?" Though he didn't intend to, he saw Wufei flinch slightly at the hostility in his voice as he struggled to reconcile passionate kisses and heated caresses with the worried look in Wufei's eyes.

"You're eyes went unfocused and you wouldn't respond when I called you. It's like you were in another place entirely. Are you all right? You don't _feel_ feverish..."

"I should be asking _you_ that," Duo growled, eyes fixed upon his hands as they jerked at the laces of Wufei's boots. "You're the one standing wounded in a shower trying to give yourself hypothermia. And you didn't even notice when I walked into the room! That's _totally_ fucked up! And they say _you're_ the observant one..." he allowed his voice to ramble on, skipping along tangent after tangent and trying to conceal how shaken he really was.

He knew he was being too rough as he jerked the boot off Wufei's chilled foot, but was too wrapped up in what had just happened to care.

What _was_ that? A hallucination? No way, it had only taken a moment or two in real time, not the minutes he had envisioned. A dream? Even in his most vivid dreams there were limits, he couldn't _feel_ the things he touched, not really. He shouldn't have been able to feel the softness of the skin beneath his fingertips, let alone the chill.

So then what? From Wufei's reaction, it couldn't possibly have happened...but from the warmth tingling against his skin, the lingering sweetness on his lips, it couldn't have not.

A hiss of pain drew him from his musings and looked down as he felt a wet warmth trickle across the back of his hand. He had accidentally brushed against the gash on the other boy's leg, breaking the tender scab and sending a ribbon of crimson twisting down his leg.

"Shit!" He lunged for the medicine cabinet and snatched up a bottle of disinfectant and a roll of bandages. Tugging a towel from the rack, he carefully wiped away what blood he could before soaking a corner in disinfectant and pressed it to the wound, not allowing time for protest.

Though he occupied his hands with the cleaning and bandaging of his friend's ::obsession's:: leg, his mind was somewhere else entirely.

For a brief moment, the line between reality and fantasy had become disturbingly vague, and he wasn't quite sure he had answers to the questions posed. ::Where do dreams end and reality start?:: he wondered. Or worse ::How far does it go before dreams become reality?::

He felt like he was losing his mind.

On to part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Shadows of Night  
Part: 2/?  
Author: focsfyr  
Pairing: 2x5  
Warnings: yaoi, blood, strangeness, bit of swearing. If you don't like it, don't read it.  
Chapter rating: maybe...PG-13? Certainly nothing worse...  
Disclaimer: I don't own them and have no money. No copyright infringements are intended.  
Archive: my site others please ask  
C&C: would be very much appreciated. And yes, that means criticism as well as comments.

Authors note: as of yet, this piece is unbeta-ed. The revised part 2 will be posted once I get it back.

* * *

::thoughts::

**SHADOWS OF NIGHT**

The distant clatter of pots and pans trickled up from the kitchen, worrying at the edges of Wufei's half-awake thoughts. He wasn't usually a morning person as he much preferred the subtle brilliance of the night to the noise and bustle of daytime. There was just something about being awake and aware while the world slept, a mystique, an energy that drew him.

Perhaps it was due to his adventures as a child, when it was a great act of rebelliousness to stay up past bedtime, to wander the gardens in the colony's false night with no one knowing where he was and no one awake to care.

The first time he dared his midnight expeditions was when he was ten years old. Terrified of what would happen if one of the servants spied him, he snuck downstairs and slipped out through the tiny basement window, his child's body escaping easily where an adult's never could. There he stopped, and stared speechless at the fanciful sight spread out before him.

The winding gravel paths seemed to be made of molten silver, the white pebbles of granite reflecting the colony's 'starlight' until they fairly glowed with inner radiance. The small forest of bamboo that surrounded the fish pond showed slivers of brilliance upon the leaves, but sank into shadow so dark it seemed to be a great void. Everything was gilded in shadows and light, the edges cut sharp and details defined. Night air filled his lungs until they seemed ready to burst with the torrents of wild energy that poured into his veins.

It was exhilarating and enchanting, a fascinating faery land concealed by day beneath the mundane world. It didn't matter that the dewy grass was soaking the cuffs of his pajama pants, or that his fine hair was getting tangled as it floated on the breeze. This was real. This was fantasy. This was _everything_ he was forbidden due to custom or education, everything that he had longed for, all unknowing because he had no idea what was missing, only that something _was._

This was freedom.

For the first time in all his young life, he felt like he was _alive._ And it was something he clung to in the following years as a source of sanity and outlet for imagination. There were no restrictions at night...at least, none he abided by.

But even though he was on his own now and no longer had to sneak out, even the faintest scent of the midnight world sent a shock of energy through his soul -- a buzz, so to speak.

Duo had once called it 'getting high on night air.' Somehow that seemed infinitely appropriate.

A tantalizing smell drifted up the stairs, drawing Wufei unwillingly into full consciousness. Unable to ignore the rumble of his empty stomach nearly as well as he could the racket from the kitchen, he slid out of bed into a full-body stretch...and collapsed back onto the soft mattress, biting back a pained squeak as every wound on his body clamored for attention.

He ached all over, except for his injured leg, which was blessedly numb with only a faint throb that beat in time with his heart.

After recovering from that first abortive attempt at movement, Wufei struggled to his feet by using the bedpost to take most of his weight off his right leg. Once the tiny surge of triumph that followed had faded, he realized that not a stitch of clothing graced his battered body. ::How..?:: His mind dug up a hazy memory of Duo holding him close and tending his wounds, but he couldn't remember anything after that. He _certainly_ didn't recall either removing his clothes or dragging himself into bed.

::Duo stripped me.:: The Chinese boy blushed and resolutely turned his thoughts elsewhere.

After a brief moment of wondering whether he was expected to wander about wrapped in nothing but a sheet, his eyes fell upon a stack of clean clothes laying neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Moving ever so carefully, he slipped them on, glad of the feel of soft cloth against his bare, _clean_ skin.

Wufei had actually worked his way almost to the door (with the support of a helpful wall) when the thought really sank in -- and his burning blush returned with a vengeance.

Apparently Duo had washed him as well. There was not a trace of blood to be found, only the slight sheen of a medicated salve the energetic pilot had applied to his bruises. _All_ his bruises, including the one darkening the skin only a few inches below his left hip.

Wufei knew, with that dreadful sinking feeling that sits heavy in your stomach, that this was going to be one of those things he would _never_ hear the end of. When it came to most things, Duo's selective memory never ceased to amaze with how much he could unconsciously forget on purpose, but when it came to gossip and blackmail material...

Wufei sighed. When it came to having dirt on anyone, Duo had a mind like a steel trap...and all of it carefully catalogued (for easy reference, of course) as to when, where and to whom it occurred.

He could only hope...

"Great! You're awake!" Duo bounded into the room, a plate stacked high with pancakes skillfully balanced on one hand.

::I'm doomed.::

* * *

An hour later found Wufei on the bed with a pleasantly full stomach stuffed with the best pancakes he'd ever had. Well, the _only_ pancakes he'd ever had, really...unless you counted that time Quatre...

Wufei shuddered and resolved to focus on something else. Like how comfortable it was to be sitting on a bed, propped up by fluffy pillows with a good book. He hadn't really had time to sit down and read in what seemed like _forever_, let alone had someone to keep him company.

Ebony eyes peeked over the edge of the book and settled curiously upon the braided boy stretched across the foot of Wufei's bed.

Duo was terribly cute, lost as he was in his baggy jeans and t-shirt with the sturdy chain of his necklace being worried by his teeth. Having never had a chance to properly acquire a nervous habit -- what with being raised to always behave in a 'manner befitting his status' -- Wufei puzzled over that for a while. It seemed an odd thing to do, since Duo was such a physically active person. Fidgeting would have seemed more appropriate, or playing with his braid...hell, _anything_ that would have kept his hands busy.

But instead, he was reading a book while he tongued his necklace, the faint click of teeth touching metal emerging every so often as he nibbled lightly upon the cross. It was strange...but then, this _was_ Duo, the guy who left his mouth running even when his brain wasn't connected. The more uncomfortable he was, the more he chattered about nothing. It was a kind of oral fidgeting, so maybe it did make sense after all.

"Hey Wu, watcha staring at?" ::As if I didn't know!:: Duo smirked to himself::I've been watching _him_ for long enough!::

Duo smiled as the other boy jerked in surprise, looking guilty as a child with his hand in the cookie jar, and then determinedly fastened his gaze on the pages of his book. It was an instinctive reaction to being caught while lost in thought...but while it _did_ prevent eye contact, it couldn't hide his blush from Duo's amused eyes.

Sometimes Wufei resented his prideful upbringing. It kept him from giving in to embarrassment and burrowing beneath the comforter. Deprived of that course of action, Wufei slumped lower into the blankets and held his book in front of his face, trying unsuccessfully to discretely disappear.

::Oh, god, that's _too_ cute!:: Duo's mind squealed in a voice disturbingly reminiscent of Relena. He wrinkled his nose at that. Ick. ::But just _look_ at that _blush_!:: The Chinese boy's cheeks and the bridge of his nose were ever so slightly tinged pink. When you threw in the downcast eyes and wisps of fine hair that framed Wufei's face, his Asian good looks became downright _adorable_. That shy, embarrassed expression made you just want to pull him into your arms and cuddle him to within an inch of his life!

'Course, Wufei'd throw a hissy fit if he knew what Duo was thinking, and then he'd make sure to never look like that again.

Ah, well...if Fei didn't know it wouldn't hurt him. _Embarrass_, yes, but the only thing that would be hurt was his pride...if he found out...which he wouldn't.

Ever.

Duo's lips were rarely sealed about anything other than the pilots' activities, but if he decided not to say something, he damn well _wouldn't._

Duo Maxwell didn't lie and didn't break his promises, not even ones that'd been made to himself. Nobody else would spot the transgression, but _he_ would know he'd lied, and that was what counted. Pilot 02 -- no, _Duo Maxwell_ -- refused to give in to hypocrisy.

He'd lived for years on the streets of L2 and had learned the hard way that trust is a rare treasure indeed. A person who trusted no one risked turning away friends. Someone who gave it too freely risked being robbed, beaten, prostituted or killed...and chances were no one would care.

That was one reason Duo had never taken to robbing the occasional dead body found in alleys or gutters, you never knew whose face might be staring back at you once you rolled the corpse over and got a look at its face. Far too often, the victim was a street-rat. Every once in a while, it had been a friend.

True friends were few and far between. You rarely meet a person you would trust with your life, someone that you would do almost anything to protect.

Some people get lucky and find one or two friends -- almost soul mates -- that they trust utterly. But many go their whole lives without ever feeling the intimacy of that bond.

Duo had found it twice. Once in a childhood friend who lay dead of the plague and now again in a shy pilot who had somehow wormed his way into Duo's heart. The other three pilots had Duo's affection as well, but something had happened when he and Wufei had been stuck in that OZ cell with the fans turned off and the air running out. They had barely spoken to one another -- a course of action born of both survival instinct and the bare facet that they had nothing to say -- but for the first time since the L2 plague, Duo hadn't felt the need to keep up the pretense of careless humor. There had been a wordless comfort that they derived from each others presence as they awaited death, and a sense of companionship that would bear the test of time.

Duo wouldn't risk that friendship for anything.

Duo smiled affectionately as the Asian boy's blush slowly began to fade. "Oy, Wufei." The braided boy poked at one delicately boned foot and grinned as it flinched away. "'Feiiiii." He ran his fingernail along the arch of Wufei's left foot, other hand gripping the ankle...but not too tightly. After putting so much effort into treating Wufei's injuries, he didn't want to aggravate them...only Wufei.

A snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh emerged from behind Wufei's book.

Wufei lightly bit the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling and tried to hold his leg still. ::Damn him! Why'd he have to find my _one_ violently ticklish spot!?:: He felt his knee twitch as Duo's fingers began another round of ticklish caresses. :: No. I will not laugh, I will not pull away and dammit, I will _not_ give in!:: His toes began to flinch and curl, laughter threatened to burst from his throat. ::Oh, shiiiit!::

Duo grinned in anticipation as Wufei squirmed, trying to pretend that the braided boy's touch _didn't_ tickle, it _really didn't_! Duo wasn't buying it, but neither was Wufei giving in.

It was time to change tactics. Duo extended one finger and touched it to the outside edge of the other boy's foot. It was hardly more than a feather-light brush, but it's always the light touches that tickle the most. Duo's finger ran up and down the edge of Wufei's sole, dragging out a grudging giggle.

To Wufei's utter horror, that giggle was followed by another -- and another, and another -- until he was curled up on his side, desperately trying to stop laughing long enough to escape.

"Duo!" he choked out, "Don't -- " Another burst of laughter interrupted his speech.

"Yes 'Fei?" Duo asked. Wufei had _such_ a wonderful laugh. It was intoxicating, addictive and contagious as all hell. Duo had to make a huge effort not to join in himself. The only reason he didn't was that, if he started laughing, he would miss the rest of _this_ delightful little show. That wouldn't be _nearly_ as much fun!

He watched intently as, one by one, Wufei's defenses fell.

"Stop!...please?"

Duo cocked his head and leaned in closer. "What was that 'Fei? I couldn't quite hear ya."

Wufei pressed his lips together and remained stubbornly silent, his pride not letting him repeat himself.

Duo shrugged. "Okay, if that's the way you wanna be about it..." Without a moment pause, Duo continued his torture, this time moving on to include the sensitive skin just below the ankle. Wufei whimpered and began to struggle in earnest and the braided boy's grip began to weaken.

Knowing better than to let go long enough to get a fresh grip, Duo grudgingly let Wufei pull his foot away. Then he caught site of his new target. There was no _way_ Wufei would _ever_ expect this!

The Chinese boy blinked with surprise as Duo rose to his knees, cobalt blue eyes focused so intently upon him that he almost expected Duo to lean forward and kiss him. People simply don't _stare_ at others like that! What drew the braided boy's eyes?

Duo's hand moved to rest on Wufei's bent leg, the other boy's skin like fire beneath his palm as he leaned forward slowly. Sensuous lips drifted ever closer to the injured pilot's skin, hot breath washing in deep sighs across Wufei's calf.

The Chinese boy watched, entranced, as Duo parted his lips and...

_Bit_ his _knee_[1

"GYAAAAA! What the _FUCK_?" Dear _lord_ that tickled!

Luckily for Wufei's sanity, Duo took pity on the squirming boy and rested his cheek against Wufei's knee, grinning broadly.

Then he felt a hand brush soft over his hair, and the unrepentant grin faded to an expression of shock. Duo stared at dark brown eyes gone unusually soft.

"Wufei?" Duo asked.

"I never did thank you for what you did last night," the Asian boy said, the pad of his thumb grazing Duo's cheek before withdrawing its touch entirely. "I think I probably would have passed out in the shower if you hadn't helped me."

Duo couldn't help but marvel at how easily the words were spoken.

Wufei was a very proud person. He had never been comfortable with accepting help, nor willing to admit that he needed any. That he did so now warmed Duo's heart, for it was an act born of trust. And perhaps it was also a sign that Wufei's soul was beginning to heal from whatever haunted his past.

Duo hoped it was.

Both boys had lived in the shadows for quite long enough. It was time and past for them -- both of them -- to start laying their ghosts to rest.

TBC

[1 Believe it or not, this tickles like hell. I can control my ticklishness, but my sister is so violently ticklish that you can torment her for _hours._ However, on one very hot day (nearly 110╨ F >. 


End file.
